


of stars and milkshakes.

by ffomixam



Series: tumblr requests. [15]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Best Friends, Friendship, Hamburg Era, pre-fame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2020-03-07 21:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18882001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ffomixam/pseuds/ffomixam
Summary: "Are you still talking fic requests? Cause I’ve been dying for any OT4 friendship story, preferably in the early days (62-64), if you can! Thanks!!"





	of stars and milkshakes.

1962,

It was their first performance in the Star-Club with this new guy, Ringo Starr, who had joined them only a few months prior. It didn’t go very well. He was a swell guy, it wasn’t that, but it’s always hard to get used to someone new. Getting used to the way they worked and how they drummed (for example). Paul hadn’t exactly been ecstatic about Stu, rest his soul, and while he never came around to him, surely it would be different with Ringo.

And he definitely was a better drummer than Best; no doubt about it.

The first night with Ringo had gone really terribly. Not just ‘not very well’. It was a shitshow. The Best fangirls went nuts at the notion that their man wasn’t, y’know, the best. And a fight erupted over it. Fools! John had just sneered at the crowd. Throwing insults and whatnot between songs only worked to escalate the situation.

And then a riot broke out and George got fucking punched for daring to defend Ringo and now as all four and their friend Klaus sat in the weird tacky American style diner near the club, he was sporting a mean black eye.

But, honestly, John couldn’t help but feel proud of the kid.

They had only just about managed to get inside before it started hailing like mad outside and they shook off their jackets that had stuck to their skin from the sweat of the heated interior of the club and the general madness that went down inside. It was well past midnight and there was a lull atmosphere in the diner.

It was a slow night for them. The young men being the only customers in sight; part from the few strangers sitting in the bar mulling over a beer and a crappy hamburger. They shouldn’t be here, John thought. After the disaster of a night, they needed a talk with their new manager Brian Epstein. They, or at least he and George, would probably get one hell of a reprimanding at how they instigated and took part in a fight with the audience. Something like that was generally frowned upon in the business.

John scoffed at the thought, drawing the attention of Paul beside him. He raised a brow at the younger man who only grinned at him. Paul had managed to get away from the chaos of the club visibly unharmed. No marks or scuffs on him. Hair still perfectly in place. Damn him.

The same couldn’t be said for the rest of the band. George with his black eye and scratch marks. Ringo not looking too dissimilar though his eye was unharmed. John probably matched them well with his hair in disarray and nasty bruises forming different places on his body.

Klaus was fine. He had gotten late to the party and had greeted them as the band were fleeing the place with instruments in hand. He now sat along with the rest waiting for a damn waitress to get their orders. He had a pad of papers out, insisting in his deep German accent on drawing them to commemorate their first performance with Ringo. John had a feeling that he was just interested in drawing them looking messed up.

The waitress finally arrived; looking well and truly annoyed with the gang of boys, who were yet to truly cause any mayhem. Of course, that wasn’t in their plans anyway! She muttered at them in broken English, asking for their orders and quickly made her way away from them once she had got said orders.

It was greasy food and not terribly good but it was what they craved on a night like this. They all got variants of the diner’s choice of burgers, milkshakes and sodas. With soggy fries to match the drab looking meat. John, along with the others, just shrugged and dug into their cheap meals.

Ringo paused and looked around the boys surrounding him. He sat furthest in the booth with George next to him and Klaus at the end while John and Paul sat at the opposite side with more room to spare than what he had to offer. Though the evening had been rough; he was grateful at its conclusion. That he had such good people to call his friends. And as he put his half-eaten burger down, he made sure to tell it so;

“Thank you, lads, for sticking up for me tonight,” he said looking around the group with his sights ending on George who was nursing his bruised eyes with the cool milkshake glass.

“It’s really no problem,” Ringo thought John said through his mouthful of food. It was hard to decipher through the muss that was the mix of lettuce and cox meat bundled up grossly in his open mouth. He was nudged in his side by Paul who seemed to motion what Ringo had thought.

“He’s right,” George piped up from next to Ringo. They looked at each other, both with tired smiles and Ringo nodded in acknowledgement.

John swallowed down his food harshly and took a big gulp of his root beer with an exclamation of “and we would do it again!” followed by barks of laughter from the young man. The people in the bar glared at them but no care was given to them as the rest of the group joined in on the laughter.


End file.
